The Reason Is You
by Thenamesapun
Summary: Sequel to Don't Mistake Kindness For Weakness'. Loki has been supposedly executed, and Tony left to wallow in pity. However, when Thor drags him to see War Horse, he dares face the possibility the trickster lived. - Frost-Iron, T for violence. Enjoy. 'He couldn't just go straight out and ask, 'Hey, are you that psychopathic demi-god who destroyed half the city who I made out with.
1. All you'll ever be

The Reason Is You

**A sequel, as mentioned, to my last story 'Don't Mistake Kindness For Weakness'. Since that name was based of TFK's 'Feel the place go Boom', I put this name as a song lyric being 'The Reason'. Listen to Weslife's cover of it and imagine IronFrost. FEELS. I will make many references to the song in here, so I would recommend listening to it. I HAVE NEVER SEEN WAR HORSE. Just thought I would let you guys know. ****  
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Chapter one - All you'll ever be

Thor's gaze grazed the figure before him, struck with empathy and tinted with sorrow. He himself carried the burden of truth. Concealing it from this man, now stammering in a drunken stupor, was more painful than he had previously anticipated. He could not tell them of his brothers last request, for that would put the blame on the billionaire and he refused to corrupt the man further.

"You must not loose hope, Man of Iron," He reassured, placing the bucket under Tony's mouth with no time to spare. After retching, the man just coughed and shook his head, disgusted with himself.

"What hope is that?"

The god hesitated, "That you and he will be reunited."

"Loki?" The mortal, through his drunken haze, was skeptical, "Hooow'd you know?"

"You have not been sober for days, and have failed to stop talking about him," Was the response. After a sullen beat he continued, "In two days a new...Movie(?) is released. I believe it was named War Horse. I would very much like to see it, and since you have not left this apartment, I suggest you lay off the drinks and accompany me. It is handy, the time difference, for to-morrow you will have a mighty headache."

A grunt in reply, but no audible argument. Thor, in his peripheral vision, spotted the sterilized containment room full of mechanical beasts - not dissimilar to several he had smashed in their last fight - that Loki had resided in temporarily. The blood trails were cleaned, but other than that it remained untouched. It was painful, to watch as a dust laced the objects, unsettled. Waiting. Expecting. And for what? A faded memory.

Thor trained his eyes on the charcoal carpet, "I wish to thank you, though I doubt you'll remember this. You gave my brother his humanity, something no Asier ever could. You should him how to love and I am certain he died still believing in you."

"What good is belief?" Tony snarled, stretching over the bed, head lolling back.

"Do not speak ill of it," The booming voice was edged with a sharp warning, "He thought it - you - were worth dying for. After all, he turned himself in to save _your_ life."

That made him snap, "And what makes you think that? The man was an idiot, I told him to get out of there! He could - should - have lived! And I was there. I..." He lost his trail of thought to seething rage and concluded by slamming his forehead into the bar. A bronzed hand patted his back reassuringly, but this only succeed in stirring the contents of his stomach.

**.oOo.**

The day that passed after his constant drinking was painful. Face contorted with pain, he lay quivering under a blanket. Thor had provided a tin bucket and was being surprising affection, assisting him at any possible opportunity. No doubt his was to repent for his brothers death. Tony spent the day burrowed under the covers, either thinking or writhing in pain, intersected with hiatuses of seeing to his needs.

Yes he was overreacting. He knew that. There was a memory in his mind, not long after Phil's supposed death, '_First time you lost a soldier?_'. Death had always rattled him to the core. Observing it effecting innocents was sickening, especially when his own inventions caused it. He had always held responsibility for the casualties, and always hated himself for that very reason. Loosing Loki was the worst possible scenario. Because he was useless. Because all Tony had achieved was elongating the gods life by mere minuets. Because had he not have distracted the former before Thor's arrival, they could have concealed himself. Because he had failed.

Night came too early in his mind and Pepper, doing a final check up, informed him that he best recover from the hang over since he and Thor were going out. It was a well known fact that when it came to the Thunderer 'loud' was an understatement.

**.oOo.**

His first impressions of the day were not positive. While sober, there was still a dull throbbing in his head. Pain would shoot through every time Thor went to speak, which was actually a lot. The cinema the god had requested was relatively low profile. Well, more than relatively. It was, in all honest, decrepit. He would not voice this, but it honestly looked like scraps. There was once a large nylon sign reading '_Cinedrome',_ but weather had eroded the edges and vandels shredded and stole from what remained. A tattered bollard hung over it, advertising an outdated energy drink that had been sued half a year back, casting the dismal building in an unpleasant shadow. The tarmac was laced with dust that spewed in a cloud at their tread. Thor, however, seemed to be enjoying the scenery. Which was one of the operative points, so Tony couldn't complain.

The innards of the 'cinedrome' was just as dilapidated as the outside. It had two workers, most likely scrounging for money. They held no apparent recollection of the duo, which was pleasant, as apposed to being bombarded with press. The genius knew the god loathed this, and tried to ignore the dampened stains or dead flies as they exchanged there tickets and passed through.

Sitting to watch the film, he failed to find anything that connected him with it. The first parts whizzed by without much care from him, until a certain character entered. Tony cocked his head inquisitively, noticing the present differences. For a start, this mans hair fell in very short, blonde curls. His eyes were a diluted sapphire, blending with a mildly tanned face. His cheekbones were less defined, but there was no mistaking that lean man.

The man on screen was Loki.


	2. The Loon

The Reason Is You

**Yeah. It feels necessary to write something here...So, hope you guys are enjoying it so far. Just remember, I don't tend to write drabble. Filler, yes, but not drabble. Everything leads up to something.****_ IRONFROST QUESTION_****_ - First date. What do they do?_**

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Chapter 2 - The Loon

Thor must not have made the connection, for he seemed as poised and composed as ever. For Tony, he knew this had to be more than just a chance ressemblance. It was his gut instinct. The film rolled on. It's popularity was understandable, the acting and scenery flawless.

And then the charge began on the German camp, and a feeling of dread etched toward the heart like the shrapnel in his chest. Only, of course, he hadn't a defense against it. This sensation, as it turned out, was not misplaced. Captain Nickolas's - Loki's - expression fell in horror as the hostile force drew their machine guns. Thor screamed something incoherent in ancient Norse at the screen - no danger of disturbing others, they were the only two present give a startled staff who had peered through the door.

The rest of the movie made no real impression, and they both left with intermingled feelings. Thor was obviously thrilled, engulfed by the rage of battle, and Tony decided best to show him to the gym before he shattered the entire tower - hell, maybe even the city. Actually, the god being preoccupied - after Stark turned down his offer for a sparing match - gave him more freedom. That sounded strange, seeing as this was his house, but since PointBreak has no regard for personal space, it was best to keep him entertained with a cartoon or fight if he wished to get any work done.

"J.A.R.V.I.S!" Tony entered his upper floor, which after Loki had stayed became his residing area, and summoned the computer, "Make a new folder, and import any and all information you can find on 'Tom Hiddleston'. Put my usual password on it. Anything remotely out of place, highlight it and send it to my phone. Also, pull up some interviews. Let's see what he's like."

The machine stirred, as if a creature awakened, and whirred. The holographic screens flickered around where the genius stood, the almost platform he stood on illuminated ominously against the shaded room. This was his only lounge where the sun dared not touch, overcast by buildings. His figures skittered along the only glass panel, an electrical current buzzing at his touch. It was a common misconception that he was a man of science. No. Science belonged to him. It was as if it branched from his finger tips, twisting and forming so naturally. He may not be genetically engineered or a particularly skilled warrior, but his mind was as great a weapon as any of their abilities. It was what put him at par with the rest.

On the screen at eye-level a video had begun, showing the now ginger actor with the lightest sprinkle of stubble littering his chin. He sat in a comfortable, friendly manner and spoke formally, but added such strange and controversial comments. Doubt blossomed, not because the resemblance was diminished - oh no, if anything that was more noticeable - but because his demeanor and character were so different to Loki. This man whose appearance was so similar was _completely bonkers_. Then again, if anyone was a master of deceit it was the God of Lies. Could the man's actions be nothing more than a charade?

Tony mused over the possibility as the clip continued. Then he heard a mention of the Avengers and cocked an inquisitive ear. There was an amusing mention of Captain America's spandex outfit that he decided he had show the old man before, as he hoped, a question on his favorite. Tom pursed his lips, face questioning but eyes certain as if long since decided.

"Either Thor or Iron Man."

"And why is that?"

Perplexed, the philanderer lent forward. He contemplated having J.A.R.V.I.S save a copy of the video.

"Well, behind both is a rational and personal reason. Thor because...Well one he's a god, which is extraordinary in itself. Then you get that he reminds me of a friend of mine - Chris - that I had. That guy was like my brother," Tom hesitated, eyes flickering from the floor where they had trained in concentration to the interviewer, settling momentarily and subtly on the camera, "And Ironman because he proves that brain is better than brawn. He is equal to the God of Thunder and a Super Spandex Soldier not because of his strength but because of his expansive knowledge, and I admire that. Also, I was actually on a trip to America during the invasion, and that brilliant man saved my life. I owe him greatly."

The spectator let any quires pass. That was Loki. He had such a cleaver way of veiling the truth, exposing it only to the people he desired to. And Tony could just see the fangirls - which, according to Twitter and Tumblr were a large mass and multiplying by the day - lapping in the false information, passing it between one another as though it were a form of religious story. And that was something only a silver tongue could do. Trick an entire world into believing he was someone he wasn't.

"How come you haven't met up with either?"

The question snapped him back into focus.

"With Thor it's simply because he's constantly flicking between our realm and his, but with Tony... Well, I doubt he even knows I'm alive."

_'I do now' _The former thought, bemused.

"Me and him are worlds different, though if I had the opportunity I'd love to meet and thank him."

J.A.R.V.I.S Interrupted the video with information regarding 'Tom's' past, which had suspicious details. While it was a beautifully spun illusion once the suspicion resides it helps perceive things differently, shining a light through the image. And the little sentence on the end? A perfect hint. Drawing his phone, Tony pulled up the man's twitter.

'_Just saw the interview, thanks a lot. As for meeting up, you okay to come to the USA?_'.

He couldn't but help be impressed that the god had mastered the internet.


	3. Hot Mess

**The Reason Is You**

**WRITERS BLOCK. GAHHH. I'm so sorry this took so long! TAKE AN OOC TOM. **

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Chapter 3 - Hot Mess

He braced, uncertain of what to anticipate. His collar was overturned against the wind, shades perched on the bridge of his nose as always. The jet was a toy, black silhouetted against the low mahogany sunrise. It grew so painfully slowly, and Tony rehearsed what fragments of speech he had managed to fabricate together. Not too formal? What is that was what was expected? He almost never managed to make a positive first impression and that was with Pepper's guidance. Stark just about made it through his charity balls without threats of assassination, though always suspected someone would spike his drink with cyanide.

The machine stuttered to a halt before him, propellers battered and rattling in the wind. Immediately the doors swung open and Tom stepped out, accompanied by who Tony assumed to be either friends or colleges. The lunatic flashed the latter a huge, feline grin as he strode forward, adorned in a leather jacket, grey undershirt, dark demin and tinted glasses. Upon his shoes were rustic cowboy boots, contrasting against the almost classy attire. But hey, that was just Hiddlestons style.

"Stark," He lurched forward, a friendly smile toying with his lips, and almost looked like he was going to embrace the billionaire before outstretching a hand. It took Tony a second before he could react, stunned, "A pleasure to meet you!"

Regaining composure, the genius offered a nod and gestured in doors, "Likewise. Do you have a place to stay? Or should I put you up for a few nights?"

It seemed as though the maybe-Loki was processing the expression, breaking it down until rationally estimating its meaning as Steve so often did. That was the ponder of a man out of time, out of grip. Like a Capsical, or Norse God, "Could do with a room, mate."

"Not a problem," Was his honest response, "How long are you staying around?"

"I'd hate to mooch off you. I'm figured I'd apply for a film while I was here. How long I stick around for varies," Tom replied. He seemed to have a relatively good grip on British and American vernacular.

Tony also began realizing why he had so many fangirls. Not only was he tall and slender with a face carved of _perfection_, he was modest, approachable and earnest too. Even windswept his hair - now slicker and orderly, with fewer curls - remained shaped and never failed to suit him. The prickles of a beard had intensified and he had thin facial hair along his upper lip and chin. It seemed to detract definition of his cheekbones, loosing a piece of Loki with it.

"It's not a problem, seriously." Stark assured, desperately hoping that it was the trickster under that veil of mad kindness. They passed through security swiftly, the on falter when a female guard recognized him and - speaking a flow of Spanish. More impressive was when the Brit held conversation, before they waved goodbye and he rejoined Tony.

The chauffeur was hovering patiently amidst the parking lot, and they drove in an awkward silence back to the tower.

**.oOo.**

"And this is your room."

Tony directed him inside. It was Loki's room, tweaked with ornaments of green and black. The ceiling was rimmed with gold, and he caught a badly concealed smile on his company's face.

Tom's eyes flickered over and they made eye contact, "Reminds me of _home_. It's _perfect_, thank you so very much."

'Home' and 'Perfect' struck a match in Starks mind. The two of the very words the god had said after his lips were un-stitched. How long would he insist on this facade? Would he remain acting? Well, his career sure suited him.

Hiddlestons gaze scrutinized the room, a sense of familiarity on his face, "Who's books are those?"

He looked at where the taller had indicated to and felt a pang of pain. Stacked up, half tucked under the bed, were three child story books. "A friend of mine stayed here not too long. He was ill, and I figured maybe reading them to him would cheer him up. It was a stupid idea really."

"I'm sure the sentiment was much appreciated," They looked tentative and reassuring. Tom was introverted, divergent from the initial impression. Head cocked, a pang of agonized recognition. The occasion glances he would throw towards the resident were hopeful, a silent prayer._ 'Do you recognize me?'_.

Tony held his tongue. He couldn't just go straight out and ask, _'Hey, are you that psychopathic demi-god who destroyed half the city who I made out with?'_. While he could see the amusement in that - especially in the unlikely scenario his visitor wasn't Loki - it seemed rather... Off...

"Anyway," In the awkwardness, he drew attention to the remaining floor, "Through there is a mini-lab. I don't know where you stand in science, but SHIELD had a rise in budget and I've got plenty of toys if you get bored."

The man drew his mouth tight, looking as though he was about to crack a joke. Whatever it was slipped away and he gave a humble, subtle and apologetic bow. Tony raised a skeptical eyebrow but continued none the less, "It's got a mini-bar and lounge through here. Sorry if something doesn't work properly, we had a...malfunction, recently."

'_That being Thor smashing the whole place apart'_, He thought bitterly, regarding the refurbished, spacious area.

Tony opened his mouth to continue but stopped when a forehead laid to rest upon his shoulder. Tom's eyes were weary, and he was practically nodding off. The jet-lagged figure gazed up at the bearded face through his eyelashes, "I'm sorry, Stark."

The form shifted, growing an inch, hair cascading down in an ebony mess. The emerald optics trained on him, though not without difficulty. He was such a hot mess.

Loki pushed himself off, staggered to the sofa and sprawled out over it, "blasted magic wasting disguise, stupid midgardian technology. Stupid mortals. How do you do this?"

Looking down at him affectionately, Tony crossed to the bar where he made a Cheri, "You look like you need a drink."

"Mmm..." They agreed, "Something...not alcoholic."

"Where's the fun in that?" He asked, eyebrows raised in that mock innocence. None the less he snatched the Lemonade used for mixing and poured a glass. When handed over, Loki sniffed it cautiously before drinking it's contents.

"Good?"

"yu-hu..." The voice was lazy and torpid, falling into sleep. The trickster was so_ innocent_ asleep. After a beat there was a muffled, "this is Wendy."

"What?" Tony gave them a confused expression, but they were out. Pulling a blanket over (It had been on the arm of the sofa), he polished off his drink and retreated to his bedroom, satisfied.

There was something almost amusing in the thought of an actor being the God of Lies. He snickered. Tom Hiddleston was Loki Odinson.


	4. A little too close

**The Reason**

**FrostIron Question - Loki tells Tony he can have kids. Tony's reaction is...?**

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**Chapter 4 - A Little Too Close To Home**

Rousing with a low, even sigh, Loki's eyelids fluttered open. A singular thread of light procured the shadows from an early dawn. With a graceful movement he stepped off the sofa and padded along the plush carpet. At some point during his sleep a shoe had slid off and his tread was lopsided, height slanted. For the purpose of comfort he pulled the other of as well. Upon reaching the window he craned his head up and through the twisted mangle of skyscrapers caught glimpses of dawn, a vibrant beauty of an entwined spectrum against the dismal, corporate blues and greys that were humanity. He let an anemic hand touch the glass panel as though it were his cage, feeling the cool of it and leaving a print in the condensation that had collected.

Feeling somewhat bored, the trickster paced through to the adjacent bedroom and looked down at Tony, affection softening his features as he resumed his mortal disguise. Perching awkwardly on the edge of the bed he poked the sleeping human, "Wake up, Stark."

A groan in protest and the man turned over, back to the god. Which, actually, not such a wise move. Patients may have been Loki's forte, but he felt somewhat disrespected, and reacted in a classically mischievous manner. Gripping the sheet underneath the sleeping figure, he yanked it sharply upwards. As expected, poor Tony was launched from his bed and landed on the floor with a _thump_, jolting awake. When he gave 'Tom' a quizzical and hurt look, the villain merely shrugged.

"I'm making breakfast."

As compensation for his rudeness Loki kissed him. It was not passionate but sweet and apologetic, and worked to the extent it seemed to sedate the sprawled out mortal.

The kitchen, he discovered on approach, was a lot more modern and complex than he had originally anticipated. A gleam skittered over the metallics betrayed in less used areas by a veil of dust. Handles had a distinctive patina. Over each object was an aliment of buttons, silver or black, accompanied by diagrams in pencil-line white markings. Peering in the cupboards and fridge he sorted out an array food. In his apartment - he could afford better but the small space was cosy and a family house would suit the lone man ill - he had but a dingy little oven, easy to use, and a microwave for faster works.

"Jarvis?"Loki's voice was uneasy. He wasn't actually sure who he was directing speech at, but tried anyway.

He was not ready for the swift response, nor its proximity, "How can I help you, Mr. Hiddleston?"

"I don't know how any of this works..." he murmured, biting back pride. What use would it be now? "I'm trying to make breakfast for Stark..."

The formless voice didn't find amusement in any of this, and was in fact a great asset. He - it - directed him to the suitable machines and soon there were several slices of bacon sizzling, eggs frying beans heating and bread being toasted. Captured by the smell wafting around Tony approached, but Loki scolded him and sent him to wait in the dining room where he presumed to sulk.

When Loki arrived he was nursing a glass of scotch. Placing the food before him, the god snatched the drink, swigged it, and put the empty container for washing. When he reappeared with cutlery he gave a commanding, "Stark, don't."

There was irritation in his eyes as he held the fork but no verbal protest. He rather disliked the formal use of his last name, but preferred it to 'Antony'. That always hit a little too close to home when it came to punishment. People only ever referred to that if they were disappointed in him or his actions. Most commonly used by his tutors or father. When his father was actually bothered.

"Like it?" There was a purr behind Loki's voice that was unmistakably cat-like. Tony would have scratched behind the god's ear if it weren't for the fact he was occupied.

He gave a satisfied nod, "It's good."

There was an awkward pause before the trickster asked, slowly, "How long was I gone?"

"Let's see..." The genius glanced upwards to a digital clock and read the date, situated in the lower left corner, "3 and a half years exactly."

Loki's hands covered his mouth before his palms connected with his closed eyes, fingers emerged in his glossy hair, head shaking, "You're_ kidding_ right? It can't be..."

The former pursed his lips but didn't speak. It hadn't been a very productive time. Sometimes S.H.I.E.L.D would send an avenger round - although their latest recruit was so unexperienced with inebriated people they refused to come back - to sober him up incase a fight broke out. A couple of trips to the hospital and some pills, nothing memorable.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry," 'Tom's' brow furrowed, sincere sadness etched into his expression. Tony let himself ponder, in some far away part of his subconscious, why the gods used themselves in such a way. Maybe it was just a human thing Loki had picked up. "I knew. I knew I should have come sooner... I couldn't, that's what I told myself. Over and over. I don't...I just..."

There was a break as Loki tilted his head back, gaze training on the lazy fan, "I needed to build a life on this realm, to make sure I was safe and stable. I told myself it would be suspicious if I saw you too early. That was my way of cowarding out, because I was scared. I figured you'd have some blonde bitch under your arms and wouldn't give a damn if I was dead or alive...I..."

"No more words," Tony cut him off, finishing the traditional english breakfast and moving swiftly over, arms wrapping around the scrawny form. The shoulders in his embrace went slack, the slender face nuzzling into the crook of his neck. The younger let his hand comb softly through the raven locks and a smile illuminated his features as a low rumble was emitted.

Loki placed another kiss on his companions cheek before standing. With a motion of magic he cleared the dishes and stalked into the lounge. Sitting on the sofa, he sat in silent thought, eyes untrained, for a while. Tony hovered curiously. There was an intense look on the gods face that he personally loved.

"So what have you done? These three years or so."

"Waited."

"For what?"

"You."

"Impossible," Loki countered, "You thought I was dead."

Tony fell in place beside him, "I didn't want to accept that you were gone. I was partly waiting for you to come back, but mostly to join you."

"Stop lying."

"You know better than anyone else I'm not."


	5. Challenge

**The Reason is you**

**Going back to a note I made earlier, I was wrong. I write drabble. And a lot of it, in face. So yeah no enjoy. Also, you guys are seriously too kind with reviews. Seriously. There are some that actually make me blush and stutter, for example Ttbbookworm's and Quraina's. It's truly an honor to have all your support. Also, TAKE THE DOCTOR WHO REFERENCE **

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Chapter 5 - A challenge 

They sat in silence, Loki's eyes bearing intimately into the Starks deep chestnut orbs. There were several creases surrounding where age had withered the skin, but the white was luminous and the brown a thick and gorgeous hue. That very gaze could portray so much, convey everything or nothing at Tony's demand. It was in the plane after he had been apprehended by SHIELD when he first saw them, and it was that very quality that captivated him. Even as he made his escape, he knew he was a goner.

Seeing that the god's thoughts were drifting, the mortal let a smile settle as he cupped the delicate face. Even in his disguise, the former had such prominent cheek bones. His celestial aura was lost somewhere in translation along with several feet. Of course that lack in stature didn't change the fact he matched Thor's height, towering over all the Avengers.

"Something the matter?" Tony asked, thumb brushing cavalierly over the smooth jaw.

Loki drew his mouth tight and placed a hand over the dimly lit blue machine that protruded Stark's chest. It was that wondrous little object that kept his companion alive, and while he didn't know exactly its purpose, he was not a fool and knew it's connection to their heart. And, as it happened, protected him from magic. Through his fascination it took him awhile to respond, "No, not really."

The younger smiled and pushed there lips together, content. The moment was perfec-

A buzz on the intercom linked through the house, "_Avengers, Assemble_.".

The god had visibly flinched in recognition of the directors voice, but Iron Man was as composed as ever, "Chill, Tom. Just sit back in front of the TV and watch me be awesome as always. I'll be back in a minute."

He nodded but it was more of an acknowledgment than agreement and followed Tony anyway to the launch pad, watching in mild fascination as the suit materialized. Or, more accurately was built around him, plate by plate on a metal claw. Before departure the human passed an ear clip that, as Loki quickly discovered, allowed him to communicate with Stark at a long range without exerting magic.

Slipping back inside, he perched before the flat screen and flicked to the news, a program that had been feeding his cultural knowledge since his first arrival, and evaluated the situation. It appeared that a fight with several mechanical beasts had unraveled, and fueled with adrenaline the Hulk had become feral. Loki watched, muscles tense, as one might having been newly introduced to horror films. Put into perspectives, it was one of those tense moments when the music became pacier and the audience just knows the hero/main character is in danger. The only difference is they can only sit helplessly and watch as it unravels that the story is set. Here, where time is wibbly-wobbly, there isn't a script, and the viewer - Loki - could intercept. With risk of his own life, by mortal or Asgardian hands.

He noticed, as the camera panned towards the arrogant hero, they gave it a subtle thumbs-up. The little reassurance proved ill as the fight progressed, and while their adversaries were tiring, so were they. The machines had since been vanquished and all that remained was the Hulk, as terrifyingly powerful and aggressive as ever. Having met the placid human doctor, it was shocking and in many respects horrific to see the transformation. Loki came to the prolonged conclusion that Banner was his least favourite green object/specimen.

Said creature, much to his gut-wrenching surprise, stopped uprooting the nearest trees and with his colossal hands gripped Tonys helmet and torso, yanking and tossing him into the nearest building.

Fingers pushing the device into his ear that had been abandoned on the cushion until the crackle was embedded deep him his canal, "Stark, you there?"

"_Don't fret princess,_" Was the reply, sharp and agonized through gritted teeth. Loki could practically hear the false smirk as he watched the inanimate figure, "I'm alright."

"That's crap."

A pause before a breathy laugh, "_Thanks. Seriously Tom, I'm fine. Of course, I won't complain if you kiss it better_."

"_These intercoms are not for flirting. Remember the team can hear this?_" The voice was indisputably Black Widows.

"_I could tell you what else we'll be doing_," Tony dragged out the words suggestively though grunts of pain as he rose, watching Bruce collect his clothes and dart away, "_Like_-"

A new voice leaped into the conversation. "_Stop._" Ah, he thought, the soldier.

"I doubt your body could handle me right now, since it's damaged."

A sharp whistle and cackling laugh that sank into poorly cough, "_I feel like I've been issued a __challenge_."

"Take it as you please," was Loki's grinning response. He was pleased that his friend had the strength, and found a huge amount of amusement to America's 'Golden Boy' reaction.

"_Babe I thought that was your job._"

The news clip flicked to the studio and he turned the screen off. He heard a smacking sound - Natasha smiting Tony for his sexual jokes, having removed his helmet for that purpose. He made several noises to get there attention before a rather callously asked question, "So you'll be going to hospital?"

"_Yeah probably_," More movement accompanied by sirens, "_Though I best talk to Banner first. Sorry, I'm a crap host. Ask Pepper. I'll make it up to you later, promise._"

Loki lay back on the sofa, eyes closed contently, "No, it's fine so long as you're all right."

"_Tony, marry this guy_," The voice belonged to the archer Loki had controlled, whose name was currently lost. The laughter that followed amused the trickster more than the comment. Beaten and bloodied, they still managed to joke and smile sincerely. A new respect for mortals blossomed. It was a strange admiration towards their strength.

The next sentence however diverted him from any other thoughts and his heart fell like stone, "_Hey Captain Nickolas the Avengers are crashing round for a while. Gonna be one hell of a party!"_


	6. Dust

**The Reason**

**I AM SO SORRY FOR THE QUALITY OF LAST CHAPTER. SERIOUSLY. IT WAS CRAP. I KNOW. I'M SORRY D:**

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**Chapter 6 - Dust**

It didn't take long for Loki to vacate the tower, nor for guilt to gnaw at his heart. Within minutes he returned to the empty fortress, eerily silent. He paced the perimeter of his floor, hands running along the mahogany furniture, 3 and a half years worth of dust gathering on his muted flesh. Tony's condition was worrying - Loki often forgot how fragile mortals were - and while a fear of the avengers had been ignited he was more than concerned about Stark's physical health. Seeking a distraction he sauntered casually through the door, sliding behind the bad and fishing for a drink. He noticed they were mostly alcoholic besides that distinctly sweet and bubbly liquid he had consumed and a dark, fizzing substance he was eager to taste. The side, noticeable in a color scheme against black and red, was a helpful label reading 'coca cola'. He had spotted the bottles in markets before but decided best to hold it to a later date under the pretense his body was still healing and a drink such as that might induce a negative reaction from his body. Now, even if the beverage were able to do such a thing, he was in such a slump he would devour it anyway.

No sooner had Loki finished the glass Jarvis spoke, polite and inanimate, "Sir, the team will be arriving shortly. Tony has requested that you come and join them."

"Thank you, I shall," The god smiled to the voice and ensured he was wearing his mortal form. He was neither keen nor willing to be reunited with the people that had crushed his forces and humiliated him, but didn't want to let down his companion or the civil invisible man he had grown to like. So, withholding any signs of reluctance, he took to the stairs and navigated to the common room he assumed - and rightly so - that the heroes had relaxed in.

Surprise rattled his features upon entering, making his character slip away momentarily before he conjured a smile. He examined with a growing sense of trepidation the gathered mortals. The original team members were present - excluding Bruce, who after his incident had probably excluded and isolated himself - they had several new additions. Most uncommonly was the tense brunette teenager (it was surprising for Shield to recruit someone so young) whose attire consisted of a red and blue skin-tight suit, engraved with spindly silver spider web patterns. Several more were present, but the only others were noticing were a separate selection featuring four blue spandex(?) wearing fighters. These consisted of a male bearing similarities to the captain with a good stature and arrogant posture, a blonde and older doctor-seeming character closely place - a couple, most likely - and a large rock resembling creature. He mentally pitted this... Thing against the hulk, and measuring from noticeable build/visible muscle structure accompanied with personal experience gave victory to the latter.

The talk diminished and attention turned to him. Loki felt like his was intruding with the questioning glares and he would have retreated if it weren't for Tony's 'greeting'. "Tom, what's the matter?" At least it wasn't _crude_.

The god turned once more. The direction and voice suggested a drop in height...

"Hey, how about we go outside, you push, and we see how fast this can go! Oh I could probably fix a repulsor to it!" The genius, arms swift, spun his wheelchair round, overly excited and ignorant to the braces and bandages that laden his body. The team made no comment. They were either restraining, or being so 'virtues' unable to remove the only entertainment the man had.

Kneeling somewhat hesitantly at the mobile chair's side, Loki allowed a sigh to escape him, fighting a paroxysm of relief and annoyance. After a hiatus he growled, "What the hell were you playing at? _You could have **died**_!"

"S...Sorry," Was the stammered apology. He had enough of such sentences from fellow Avengers, but this was much more emotional and meaningful. He did not want to argue with the trickster and wanted to lay peace. Habit overcame his initial intentions and he regained composure, "I didn't realize I mattered that much to you."

A cringe passed through the spectators. They all were silently cursing the mans ignorance, for a quick evaluation of the irritant stranger was enough to stun them in silence. Loki would have progressed into rage had it not have been for the audience Awkwardly, he choked out an, "of course I care", before leaving. Tension resided in his place and the heroes, coughing goodbyes, scattered to either there floors in the tower or separate apartments. Iron man had only one destination.

"Hello?" He steered, the wheels supporting him as he swerved through the shadowed corridors and into the bedroom of Loki's floor. Said god was sprawled out on the mattress, defiant, displeased. He did not move at the sound of the advancing mechanism.

Tony hoisted himself from the seat onto the sheets, making it dip slightly, annoyed his lower limbs had become such a dead-weight and grunting as pain rippled through his spine. Once up he heard a mutter, spoken into the pillow, that he assumed was of protest, "pardon?"

The now ebony-haired figure lurched up, eyes ablaze, "Of course you matter! Was going to my death willingly not enough to prove that to you?"

"You had a plan, whatever it was. That's why you're here." The former countered.

"Fool," Loki spat, averting his gaze, "I did not formulate the idea. Had it not have been for Thor and Mother's intelligence, I would be deceased."

Tony faltered, touched. This immortal had offered himself in his defense. It was a bittersweet sentiment. But he still held to the argument, "But you said you gave it for me? Why me? How do you even know you matter so much to me now as you suggest?"

"At first, I suppose I was merely repaying a debt. After all, you rescued me. But as for now? That's simple. The dust. All the time I've been gone, you've preserved this area. Not let a person touch it. There are no imprints in the dust from between then and my latest visit."

The human swallowed, feeling a lump at the back of his throat. Apathy touched his lips and curled them into a smile, that was returned. Stark noticed something off-putting about the anemic features, a suggestion of an anomaly he couldn't name. A detail or two were misplaced.

This stare lasted for a small amount of time as a grin of mischief and the injured fellow returned to his aid, nestling comfortably. He moved towards the lab, gesturing for Loki to follow, "This chair? Too slow. No fun. Need help attaching the rockets. Maybe."

Tony drew from the cabinet several components and tinkered with them, throwing outdated pieces aside to make room for the latest invention. "JARVIS, might need Dummy down here. Dunno..."

The whir of machinery rang out and the distinctive noise of an elevator in motion. The god hesitated, over-watching the process to be sure that the reckless idea was not endangering Stark's person.

In the duration of this experiment he retained information on the new additions. Fury had convinced the 'Fantastic Four' - The spandex parade, as the couple names them - to accompany SHIELD in international missions after there latest success in assisting the silver surfer and preventing Doom. As for the boy, he was the only Avenger to apply within a job request after being bitten by a radio active spider that mutated his DNA. The prospect of this seemed ludicrous, but the very thought of a child possessing such powers was far-fetched in itself no matter how he attained them.

Eventually, as day turned to dusk, an attachable launcher was fitted. Loki frowned, vexed, and once again came that quizzical detail. Upon the furrowed brow lay several creases of age, etched lightly within the skin. Tony had not been aware of them before, and the thought of an immortal gaining wrinkles was...strange.

"Actually, scrap this," He tugged sharply, unhooking the mechanism, "I've got homework. All sciencey geeky clever stuff. Also Thor said the gay bridge was fixed which is great."

Loki cocked his head inquisitively at the use of modern vernacular but ignored it. Stark was heading towards the lift, oblivious in his mad intelligence, but Loki grabbed the collar of his shirt, "Dinner, now. I'll cook."

Tony frowned but suppressed all verbal protest. He decided that it would be easier to just let the trickster do as he wished, and hold it against him on a later date. Also, he loved how dometic they looked, having pulled an apron from seemingly nowhere (magic, obviously), sweeping the dust down and tying there hair up. Of course Stark was smart enough not to comment.

It would have ruined a perfect moment.


End file.
